How It Could Have Ended HICHE, Torak's Triumph
by TheChelaxian
Summary: What would have happened if Torak won at Vo Mimbre? This little story tells that unthinkable tale.
1. The Battle of Vo Mimbre

_What would happen if Torak had _won_ the Battle of Vo Mimbre? This tale tells the story of Torak's Triumph . . ._

_Torak_

I, Torak, Dark God of the Angarak peoples, after debasing the Rivan Warder, turned to the wolf at Brand the Warder's side and said thus: "Begone, Belgarath, flee if thou wouldst save thy life."

The shapeshifting sorcerer known as Belgarath snarled at me, baring his teeth in defiance.

Then I turned to Polgara, my features softening. "Abjure thy father, Polgara, and come with me." I said this softly. "I will wed thee, and make thee Queen of all the world, and thy might and thy power shall be second only to mine."

Polgara the Sorceress, in her favored form of a snowy owl, screeched her scorn in such a way that would have made even the Gods tremble.

But I did not.

I, the maimed God of Angarak, smiled, the burning ruins of mine missing eye kindling with fire. I knew not fear in my madness. "I knew that thou would resist at first, but thy struggles shalt but make mine triumph over thou all the sweeter. With thou at my side we shalt rule this earth, yea, the very universe herself, and together we shall birth a new race of Gods that shall rule under us. But first, I shalt deal with this mere mortal who dares to defy the King of Kings and Lord of Lords." And with that I charged Brand, Cthrek Goru upraised to strike, crying out: "Perish then to perish all!"

Thus Man and God clashed mightily, but for many blows not a one landed upon our enemy.

But then I thrust all of my mighty will into my black blade and, raising it with his one hand, struck the shield of Brand. The blade embedded itself into the shield. Seeing my advantage, I jerked downwards with my sword, dragging Brand around and to his knees so that the Rivan Warder's back was exposed.

I raised Cthrek Goru above mine head and, murmuring "And so thou perish" in old Angarak, smote Brand from head clean through to the ground. As the two pieces of Brand fell from each other, a great cry arose from the armies amassed around me, the Angaraks crying out in victory, but the Alorns, Tolnedrans, Ulgos, and Arends hoarsely cried out in disbelief and despair.

I raised my bloodied sword high, basking in the worship of my people and the fear of my enemies.

_Belgarath_

As Torak's blow descended, I howled my horror. This was not supposed to happen! I could not believe it! As my howl died out, my friend upstairs spoke to me.

"_Quickly_," he said hurriedly. "_Get the shield!_"

"Why?" I asked in the manner of the wolf, despair filling my soul to the point of obliviousness. "What matters now?"

"_The Orb is still in the shield, if Torak gets it all is lost!_"

Only then did I remember that the Orb was embedded in the shield. I loped across the battlefield, not bothering to change shape, and grabbed the shield with my teeth from under Torak's nose. I tried to run back, but it was awkward carrying the shield like that, and a wolf would not make it to Riva. Mid-run, I shifted into a massive eagle, grabbed the shield's belts, and took off. The shield, I later noticed, was lighter than it should have been. I think the Orb had taken steps to ease my escape.

As I gained altitude, I sent my thought to Polgara. "_Pol_," I cried mentally, "_get out of there!_"

I soon heard a bloodcurdling scream, and when I turned to look I too shrieked, for a terrible nightmare had come true.

_Polgara_

As Brand died, I felt all hope in my heart die there with him. Fear and desolation filled my very being, doubled by the terror of my mother joined with me.

"_No!_" We cried together.

For reasons I did not understand I began to weep bitterly, and so did not see my Torak's gloating or father's rescue of the Orb. I was aware of nothing till I heard father's voice in my head. "_Pol, get out of there!_"

I opened my eyes and looked before me. I saw Brand's body, the armies, and Torak all in one sickening instant. Torak, lowering his giant sword, turned slowly towards me, his mask smiling.

I changed even as I stood up, blurring into a falcon and struggling to get far enough away. I couldn't. I suddenly felt my will turned against me and I felt myself turn around and sail back towards earth, towards Torak. I screamed, but all my inner struggles were meaningless against the Dark God. The Dragon God held up his stump of an arm like a falconer holds out his arm for his bird. Revulsion filled me, but I could do nothing.

I landed lightly upon his ruined arm, and he stroked my feathers with his hand. "At last, Polgara," Torak said softly, "thou art mine."

As he caressed me, I felt my will collapse, and my heart was filled with adulation for my new God. Mother left me then, whispering: "_Goodbye, my daughter_."

_Belgarath_

Watching my daughter submit to Torak was the hardest thing I had to endure ever since the death of my beloved wife. But my friend upstairs reminded me of the importance of getting the Orb to Riva where we would make our final stand. Shoving aside my grief, I turned northwest towards the Isle of the Winds. I got there faster than normal, again I thought of the Orb.

I flew through an open window into the chambers of Brand's son, Camion, a handsome young man with dark hair and blue eyes. He was of course startled that a shield-bearing eagle would fly into his room, and he was even more surprised when I shimmered into my natural form.

"Holy Belgarath?" he choked.

"Never mind that now!" I growled, picking up the shield. I ripped off the cloak that concealed the Orb and revealed it to Camion. "The battle is lost. Your father is dead at Torak's hand, my daughter has just joined his side, and they will be coming soon for this." I jerked the shield up in his face. "You are now the Warder of Riva and the protection of the Orb is now _your_ responsibility.

The young man recoiled from the Orb, but then he just stood there as the news soaked in, staring at me.

Of course I should have been more sensitive to the boy, but we had no time for being soft.

Camion blinked back tears, quickly wiped his eyes, and then stood tall. "What must we do?"

The two of us began then and there the preparations of Torak's eventual assault on Riva. Most of the Alorn armies, including the Rivans, were still in Arendia, and when the twins called in they confirmed that fact. Our armies were in full retreat to the north, where Beldin was whipping them northward to protect the Isle of the Winds from Torak's hordes. Several days past, and then I was contacted by the twins with startling news. Torak was not moving.

His army took over Vo Mimbre and settled in, repairing the damages and fortifying its position. What he was waiting for I didn't know nor care, but I took advantage of the situation and ordered Beldin to get the army into boats to protect Riva. The Cherek pirates and sailors quickly resumed their patrols around the Isle of the Winds while transporting the Rivans back to their homeland. The twins remained with the Arends, who managed to put aside their differences and worked together to terrorize the Angarak hordes. Beldin holed up with the Drasnians, Ulgos, and Algars in the Ulgo mountains, where they launched hit-and-run attacks on Torak's army. Still Torak remained in his iron pavilion, now moved within the yellow walls of Vo Mimbre, his army in stasis.

We prepared for the inevitable invasion, for we all knew that Torak knew that the Orb was kept in Riva, and, luckily for us, had not even realized that the Orb was at Vo Mimbre. Riva became even more of a fortress, ditches and spikes being placed all over the only beach, the doors and walls were strengthened, and the people's homes were turned into small garrisons as every boy and man of age began training with weapons.

Several months passed, nine if I remember correctly, and I was sitting on the dais on which stood the throne of the Rivan King when Beldin's thought came to me.

"_You aren't going to like the new news I've got_." He said.

"_How bad could it be?_" I asked.

"_Torak and Pol's got a son_."

I gave a hoarse shout. "_WHAT?_"

"_Told you_."

"_When?_"

"_Just now. Torak came out of his iron tower and held up his son for all his hordes to see. I was in hawk form spying and happened to see and hear everything. He looks almost just like his mother when she was born. The boy's name is Zarokal, 'Son of the King and God' in old Angarak. Also, I think this is what old Burntface was waiting for, because now he's got Zedar, Urvon, and Ctuchik working together building new ships and marshalling more men. You'd best tell the Rivans that the storm is coming_."

I immediately ran to Camion's chambers and told him everything. He surprisingly took it rather well. He later explained that a voice in his head had told him that Torak was waiting for the birth of his son before he marched to war. That confirmed that Camion was the new Child of Light, destined to fight Torak when the Dragon God came for the Orb.

That was a relief, I was afraid _I_ was going to be the Child of Light again; I don't do well with responsibility.

So I won't accept duty with proper grace and dignity, so what?

A couple months after I had learned of Polgara's son and Torak's plans, Beldin sent warning of a massive fleet of large iron ships sailing around southern Cthol Murgos up towards the Isle of the Winds. At first I didn't believe iron ships could have sailed that distance let alone floated, but when Beldin suggested explaining the science behind it I chose to simply take him at his word. Beldin told me that he was leaving the other armies with the twins while he came to Riva himself.

"Urvon's coming along with Torak, Pol, and Zedar in hopes of redeeming himself in his God's eye, and he and I have a score to settle." Beldin said when he got here.

"Pol's coming?" I asked.

"She is totally loyal to Torak now," Beldin said softly, "she won't leave his side."

I buried my face in my hands as a sat down heavily in a chair. I had tried not to think about that, but it continued to haunt me. Beldin said nothing, knowing enough to leave me alone while I mourned.

Finally, getting a grip on myself, I got up and the two of us went to Camion to tell him what was coming. We found him standing in front of the throne of the Rivan King, staring up at the Orb set back in the sword as its pommel. As we neared he spoke.

"I never wanted this responsibility, I just wanted to live out my life as a good man and husband and forget all about this sorry business."

"None o' us er wanted to 'ave tha duties bestowed 'pon us," Beldin said in his infuriating brogue, "but we don't be havin' a choice in tha matter. All we got to decide is wot we do wit' wot we got."

Camion managed a weak smile, turning to us. Under his gray cloak I noticed him wearing armor and his sword.

"I figured I might as well get used to wearing it," he said when I asked him, "what with the invasion coming soon."

Beldin soon left to watch the advance of Torak's iron fleet. He called in occasionally to mark their progress, but finally he contacted me in the middle of the night saying the Chereks and Angaraks were engaged in the Sea of the Winds.

I woke Camion and told him what was happening, and the two of us waited anxiously for the outcome from Beldin. As the sun rose we got our answer: the Chereks were defeated and driven back to Cherek. The Angaraks were coming; they would be in Riva in two days.

Beldin returned to Riva by noon, cursing in multiple languages. It appeared that Urvon learned of his nemesis' presence above him and warned Torak. The God almost took Beldin down, but the devious dwarf was faster than the one-eyed Dragon God. That made me feel like we had a chance.

I was looking out the window of a tower of the Citadel when Beldin came in on the day the Angarak fleet was supposed to arrive. "Are you still sitting there?"

"What else would I be doing?"

"You've been sitting there doing nothing ever since Camion had that last talk with us before leaving to bring in the last of the Rivan soldiers. What's eating you . . . outside the obvious?"

"We were supposed to win at Vo Mimbre, but something went wrong. I have been thinking about it since that moment when Torak cleaved Brand in two." I turned to face the dwarf. "What went wrong?"

Beldin simply shrugged.

Camion suddenly burst into my room. Breathlessly, he gasped: "The Angaraks . . . Torak . . . he's—they're here!"


	2. The Battle for the Orb

_**The continuing tale of Torak's Triumph . . . Sorry it took so long, college and a couple other projects ate up my time.**_

_**Torak**_

With mine good eye I gazed upon the bleak, gray fortress that was Riva. I hath heard tales of its majesty from mine spies, but now that I myself gazed upon it, I could not help but secretly be intimidated by it. I knew that I would lose many of mine followers in this assault, but if it meant victory, that the Orb would again be mine, then I would sacrifice a million Angaraks without hesitation. I turned to see Polgara, my Queen, standing loyally behind me, and in her arms our child.

I smiled, "This is it, my beloved," I told her, "This shalt be the day of our victory."

"It shalt be as thou say, my King." She replied dutifully. I knew that deep down she abhorred me, but my hold over her was stronger than even her great talent and the power of her dead mother. My triumph over her was worth the constant struggle I was faced with each and every day.

I turned back to face Riva, and I shouted to mine captains the order to attack. The massive ships—I named them Dreadnoughts—surged forward, the catapults winding back and the stormtroopers preparing their weapons. My smile widened.

Today would be glorious.

_**Belgarath**_

I sat on the dais in the Hall of the Rivan King in front of the throne where the Sword and Orb sat embedded in the great seat. Camion stood behind me, just in front of the throne. Beldin had left to watch over the fight outside the city, so all we had to do was wait for Torak to come for the Orb. We knew he could and would; there wasn't much that could stop a mad God.

The twins had contacted me before the fleet of the Dragon God had arrived, saying that they had hidden Geral, Riva's latest descendant, in the Vale, where we hoped beyond hope he would be safe from Torak. That child was going to be our last hope if Torak got the Orb back, or so my friend upstairs said.

"_He must survive_," he had said, "_lest the maimed one retrieves the Orb of Aldur. If Torak wins this battle, Geral will have to grow up to kill Torak and his child, or else the world shall succumb to darkness and misery at the Dragon God's hand_."

So we had two last chances before we were sure to lose for good. That made me feel _so_ much better.

Beldin finally reported in. "_Those iron ships of Torak's have begun to launch burning stones at the citadel_." A thunderous rumble shook the city. "_There's one_," Beldin commented.

"Tell us something we don't know." I said aloud, and those present looked at me as if I had just said the sky was green. I directed my thought to Beldin this time, and he laughed, but I could tell it was strained.

The battering took hours, from sunrise to sunset, but Torak did not come within striking distance of our archers and catapults. None of us could sleep, partly from the constant barrage from the Angaraks, and partly because we were all afraid of what would come in the morning.

Finally, the barrage stopped, either from a lack of ammunition or if Torak ordered it, I never learned, but soon after the ships stopped shooting, smaller boats filled with stormtroopers—mostly heavily armored Thulls, Nadraks, and Murgos—stormed the beach as fast as they could go. The Rivans, I'm told, put up a hell of a fight, but finally the Malloreans came in and the Rivans were forced back into the city.

Beldin was cursing when he reported the retreat, his ugly faced contorted in rage and fear. The mildest words in his choice of vocabulary to describe the Rivan soldiers were craven and naive, unable to understand the seriousness of this fight.

I stayed where I was, awaiting the inevitable. Beldin took the spot opposite me, still muttering. Camion said nothing, but his face bore that same deadly calm his father had on the field outside Vo Mimbre. I wondered then, when I was the Child of Light and I faced Zedar, if I had the same composed expression plastered onto my face.

"Kind of quiet," Beldin noted.

I then took notice of the lack of noise. There should be the sounds of battle going on outside, shouts, screams, anything. But there was no noise.

No one said a word as we waited.

Suddenly, there was the sound of footsteps outside the throne room's doors. Heavy, commanding footsteps. The footsteps of a God.

They grew louder as Torak came closer, and we all could feel his oppressive power bearing down on us.

Soon Torak was before the doors, and we all grew still.

"OPEN!" Torak shouted, and the doors cracked and fell apart, falling to the floor as rubble.

The Dragon God of the Angaraks stood before us much as he had at Vo Mimbre, still wearing that archaic armor, still wielding Cthrek Goru, and his masked face still twisted in that mad smile. Behind him stood Polgara, Zedar, Ctuchik, and Urvon, and behind them were the hordes of Angarak. I stared at my daughter. She wore a black dress, trimmed in red, which clung to her curves, and on her lips was the same sneering visage as was on Torak's face.

Torak's smile widened as he gazed upon the resistance, but when he looked up, he frowned as he saw the blue glow of the Orb turn a bloody red, painting the chamber crimson. The fiery Eye That Was Not burned red with the Orb, mirroring the stone's wrath and abhorrence of the maimed God.

Torak turned his gaze upon me. "Thou art clever, Belgarath." He chuckled. "Hiding the Orb in that shield in hopes that thou might use it against me at Vo Mimbre, thou art truly as cunning as foretold."

I said nothing intelligible, but in my hatred of him I snarled like an animal, baring my teeth like a wolf would do.

Torak clucked his tongue, "I thought mine brother had taught thee better manners. It seems that now I have the opportunity to properly teach you submission to thine betters."

I ignored him. "Pol," I pleaded to my daughter, "I know you're still in there, fight him, please."

"Be silent, old wolf," she said scornfully, "mine heart belongs to Torak, my king and husband."

Camion hoarsely shouted as the Angaraks poured into the throne room. "ATTACK, ATTACK RIVANS FOR THE WORLD AND FOR THE HOLY GODS, ATTACK!" And so the Battle for the Orb began.

The Rivans fought valiantly, but the Angarak numbers were slowly overwhelming them. Camion had drawn his sword and was dueling Torak, Zedar and Ctuchik singled me out, and Beldin fought both Urvon and Polgara.

_**Beldin**_

I had my hands full. Although Urvon was an insect compared to me, Polgara had her father's strength and skill, plus she was boosted by her union with the Dark God. Urvon was screaming incoherently as I defeated each of his assaults, redirecting them at him. I found a perverse pleasure in watching the ugly disciple of Torak dance to dodge his own attacks.

Polgara, however, was hammering away at me without emotion, as if all the years I spent raising her had been forgotten. I wracked my brain for ways to stop her.

I suddenly saw my chance when she slipped up after falling for an unintentional feint. I knocked her off her feet and held her to the floor.

With her out of the way, I focused some more of my attention on Urvon. I summoned a white-hot hook and waved it in front of him. He panicked and fled, ignoring the fight around him in an effort to escape the illusion.

When he was gone, I turned back to Polgara. It was heartbreaking to see her like this, so blindly devoted to the wrong God. If only there was a way to free her, I loved her so much I would . . .

That was it!

_**Belgarath**_

"_Belgarath!_"

"_What_?" I thought at Beldin, dodging a firestorm from Ctuchik and a tornado from Zedar.

"_I need you to love Polgara_."

"_What are you talking about?_"

"_I have an idea to free her from Torak's control. Love is supposed to be the most powerful thing in the world, right? If we both concentrate our love on her like we would our Wills, we might break Torak's hold on her_."

"_But that'll kill her!_"

"_We don't have a choice! She'll tear us apart if I let her go! She's the key behind winning here today!_"

"_So if we are going to kill her, why bother loving her to do it?_"

"_So she can die free_." Beldin said simply.

As I hurled lightning at my opponents, I realized that that's the end I would wish my daughter if she had been so enslaved. So, using all of my Will, I called out: "Earthquake!" and, as the whole island began to tremble—knocking everyone off their feet for a moment—I raced over to here Beldin was sweating blood trying to keep Polgara under control.

"Together," he said through clenched teeth.

I merged my love with my brother's, and together we attacked the mental wall Torak had erected around his prize. The earthquake threw off our concentration for a while, but when we got around that distraction, we found a weak link in Torak's wall. I later guessed it was having his hands full fighting the vengeful Camion, but at the time we took advantage of it and dove through.

Once inside of Polgara's mind, we began to try to free Polgara.

_**Torak**_

I was faced with a most worthy opponent in the child of Brand the Warder of Riva's vacant throne. He was skilled with the blade, and as our fight progressed, I came to realize that we were evenly matched, much like myself and Brand were at Vo Mimbre.

So, it was this upstart that was the Child of Light this time, not Belgarath. Somehow, that revelation made me feel less confident. I knew Belgarath's powers, but this knave was unknown to me.

Suddenly, I felt my energy being drained from me, like someone was wearing away at a part of me. I felt it pulling at me from Polgara—

Disregarding my duel with Camion, I turned to my beloved, and I saw the two disciples of my pathetic brother hovering over my queen. I cried out in rage as Ctuchik launched a bolt of lightning at them. I used my power to deflect it. When the confused fool turned to ask me why, I simply said: "DO NOT HARM MY QUEEN!" My raw emotions blinding all other thought.

Only then did I realize my mistake. "NOOO!" I howled in despair as I felt my control over Polgara break underneath the weight of my resulting madness.

_**Belgarath**_

Suddenly, Torak's hold on Polgara snapped, it just broke off. Polgara gasped as she was freed.

Still in her mind, I felt her elation and relief at being free of Torak, and I quickly departed as she sealed up her mind so hard that I doubt anyone could have gotten back in.

She looked up at me. "Father," she said weeping with joy.

"Pol," I murmured as I fiercely embraced her. Beldin simply stood over us, tears falling in earnest from his eyes into his beard.

_**Torak**_

In my madness, I turned on the closest living being to me, the knave Camion. I lashed out at him with abandon, unable to strike at anyone else. I hammered at him till his sword shattered and I plunged Cthrek Goru through him. I could feel the life draining from his body, and it soothed me.

I then turned to the Orb, and I strode for it, my confidence in my latest victory urging me on. I created an iron casket and I took the Orb in my hand, enduring its fire and ire, and placed it within the casket. I had won!

Belgarath's earthquake was getting too quiet for my taste, so I bestowed my own touch upon it, allowing it to build to the point of it shaking the whole earth. I let all know that I had won!

I strode from the fortress to the coast, where my people awaited me. I drew my hood over my face, hiding my ecstasy from them. I did not look back. I had won, that's all that mattered.

_**Belgarath**_

I knew what had just occurred, I knew the consequences, but none of that mattered right now. My daughter was free, that's all that mattered.


	3. The Children of Light and Dark

_**The continuing tale of Torak's Triumph . . . Sorry for the delay . . .**_

_**Several years later . . .**_

_**Belgarath**_

It has been ten odd years since our defeat at Riva. Torak's earthquake had nearly submerged the island, the survivors fleeing to the mountaintops where they waited for the remnants of the Cherek fleet to come save them. The Angaraks fled to their ships, but most of them drown. Angaraks aren't renowned for the ability to swim. Those that could we finished off by turning into sharks and . . . well, you get the picture.

Pol, Beldin, the twins, I, and Geral have been hiding in the Vale, training the boy in the Will and the Word, as well as in swordplay. We had been told this boy would be our last hope if Torak got the Orb back, and so we were driving ourselves and Geral to the edge in not only his training but our own.

So it was, one day, we were all gathered in Aldur's tower, sitting around the table in the center of the chamber. My feet were set up on the edge of the table, a mug of ale in one hand, and the other pointed at a large, current map of the world.

"Torak's still got himself holed up in his tower with his son, Zarokal, in Cthol Mishrak." I said, indicating the darkened spot on the map in northeastern Mallorea. "What he's waiting for this time I have no idea."

"Maybe he's trying to regain control over the Orb," Geral suggested, his thick arms crossed over his chest. He truly resembled his ancestor, Riva, even at his young age. He had the height, the strong arms and hands, the blue eyes, and the innocent eagerness of old Iron-Grip. "If turned against us the Orb could be a deadly weapon for the Dragon God."

Beldin shook his head. "Nay, lad, he'd not even touch the thing if he could help it now. He fears that stone and its fire more than anything else in this universe, save maybe the Child of Light."

Polgara sighed, "He is training his son to fight Geral in his stead."

All eyes turned to face Polgara. "You sound . . ." Beltira started.

". . . So certain." Belkira finished, both looking concerned.

"I . . . I still have a connection to . . . my son." She said wearily, "I can hear his thoughts faintly in my mind. I think it has to do with his being half a god, it heightens the connection between mother and son . . . and through the son the father."

I put down my mug and walked over to her, wrapping her in my arms. She rested her head on my shoulder, breathing slowly.

"I'm so tired, father."

"You're free now, Pol, it's over."

"Is it?" She looked up at me. "What if we face each other and I give into him again? I couldn't survive it."

"Pol," I said firmly, "our love for you is stronger than the will of Torak, as long as we love you, you will always be free."

She nodded, and then backed out of my embrace. "I'm going to go rest," she said, "if you need me . . ." she left it hanging as she departed.

Beldin watched her go. "She has been carrying that burden around for far too long." He said after she left.

"Would we react any differently?" I asked, "If we were in her place, how well would any of us have taken it?"

"I think she is struggling . . ."

". . . More than she is letting us know." The twins said sagely.

_**Polgara**_

As I walked slowly from Aldur's tower, my thoughts strayed back to that terrible period of my life, as Torak's willing slave. I still awoke in the middle of the night screaming in horror from nightmares. I still shudder from the memory of his touch. Oh God, his touch!

I shivered, and not from the cool wind blowing in from the north.

I soon reached my father's tower, and I commanded the door to open. As the stone grated upon itself, I was reminded of the iron doors of Torak's tower, how the metal on metal would constantly grate upon my ears as he would enter my chamber to gloat over his victory. As soon as our son was born, he almost completely ignored me, leaving me chained in my chamber till it came time for the attack on Riva, then he ordered me to accompany him during the invasion, so he could show me his true strength over me, further crushing my rebellion against him.

If it had not been for father and Beldin trying to free me and Ctuchik's attack, I would have been his slave forever.

Not bothering to undress, I crawled under the covers and wept, not body-shaking sobs but silent tears that leaked from my eyes and into the pillows.

_**A couple years later . . .**_

_**Belgarath**_

Geral, now a man, was learning how to perform some elaborate sword combination, the name of which escapes me, when Beldin, who had been flying around the world, returned and began swearing. He did that a lot lately . . . I mean, more so than usual.

Geral walked calmly up to the dwarf and, beginning with an intricate combination of curses, greeted him.

"You're getting better at that, boy." Beldin grinned grotesquely.

"How goes the outside world, great-uncle?" Geral asked, also grinning.

"I told you, boy, it's just uncle between us, and the world is up in flames. Angaraks are swarming the countries of the west and those that aren't infecting the rest of the world with their presence are preparing for something big. Sacrifices are being lowered to a minimum, and the Malloreans are massing on the coast in armor. The Alorns are at each other's necks, the Nyssians' best assassins are going missing, the Ulgos are praying up a storm, the Tolnedrans are haggling over the succession—again—and the Rivans are wandering the realms trying to stir up an army to take their revenge on Torak and his Angaraks."

"Is that all?" Geral asked, "I half-expected there to be war already."

"Oh, the war already started, a long time ago, it's just at a standstill right now."

I finally decided to join them, exiting my tower and greeting my brother. He cursed at me . . . again, calling me late and lazy. I really hate it when he does that.

He recapped what he told Geral but added that he saw Zarokal. The little god wasn't so little anymore, he was as tall as Geral and about the same size, but much younger and with Angarak features, such as angular eyes and swarthy skin. His eyes were red, though, and that was different, as Angarak eyes were yellow.

"What's so special about a red-eyed Angarak?" I asked, confused, "I mean, Tolnedrans are red-eyed, but every race has their own eye color."

"Did you happen to notice Zedar's eyes when he was the Child of Dark?"

"It was kind of dark, but so were they. Until . . ." Then it hit me. "They were red."

"I have a theory," Beldin said, "that whoever is the Child of Light has blue eyes and whoever is the Child of Dark has red, and if I'm right, then Geral is the Child of Light and Zarokal is the Child of Dark."

"Interesting theory, brother, but isn't the Child of Dark supposed to be Torak?"

"Not anymore, it seems."

"Hmm," I thought very hard then, trying to think of the consequences of this. Stroking my beard, I began to pace.

Beldin watched me as I accomplished nothing. He yawned, "You aren't going to solve anything by doing that."

"Oh, be quiet and let me think."

"I tried to warn him," Beldin informed Geral.

I turned to glare at the dwarf.

"I mean, I wouldn't have him to think that we wanted him to be wasting his time, right?" he continued.

"Don't you have something better to be doing?" I asked him.

"No, not really," the deformed little man grinned grotesquely.

I groaned, turned my face upwards, raised my hands, and asked the uncaring heavens, "Why me?"

_**Polgara**_

As I slept, my consciousness was again touched by that of my son's. He was in pain, and my heart sunk in my chest, for I loved my child. I had learned how to see through Zarokal's eyes, allowing me to spy on Torak. It was not my idea, but mother's, who had returned to me and comforted me as soon as Torak's hold on me was released. She instructed me in the way to see through the eyes of another, and this is what I did now every night.

Torak struck his Demigod son again across the face. "Nay, knave, thou shalt do it again, and this time do it right!"

"But father—"

"Thou shalt not speak back to me! Now, strike again!"

Zarokal executed a stunning display of swordsmanship, and Torak blocked every move, the Dragon God finally landing a blow on Zarokal's temple with the flat of Cthrek Goru. The young God sprawled on the tower floor, bleeding from the wound. He began to cry, and my heart ached at the sound.

However, the sound only angered Torak. "Silence, knave! Be silent, or I shalt cut out thine tongue!"

Zarokal did his best to lessen his sobs.

Torak ranted in Old Angarak, and then departed without a word to his child. As he left, my conscience entered Zarokal's mind. "Hush, my child," I spoke to him, "he is gone now."

"But he'll come back."

"Not for a long time, he will go now to gloat over the Orb and to rant to his disciples. Be calm, I am here now."

"Yes, mother," he whispered, and I released my will, allowing his eyes to turn from a murky red to a clear blue.

_**Torak**_

I left mine audacious brat behind me and strode to my chamber where I kept the Orb of my foolish brother. It remained in the iron casket, the stone's accursed glow causing the box to glow as well.

I summoned my disciples to me after a moment's contemplation of the Orb. They arrived one after the other, Zedar first, Ctuchik second, and little Urvon last, as usual.

"What is your will, my God?" Ctuchik asked, bowing low, his long beard brushing the floor.

I sneered at him, he reminded me of a corpse brought back to life. "I wish to discuss mine and mine son's role in the Dark Prophecy. I was once the Child of Dark, but now it seems that role has fallen upon the frail shoulders of my son. He is not ready for the EVENT that is coming closer, yea, before the next eclipse."

"But the next eclipse is days away!" Zedar exclaimed.

"I am aware, Zedar," I snarled, "and if the duty of the Child of Dark is for Zarokal, then we will most certainly lose. I know of the ferocity of the Rivan line, and the current heir to Iron-Grip's throne is reputed to be as strong as, if not stronger than, his ancestors. He will most certainly win against Zarokal. This is why we must cheat."

"Cheat, my Lord?" Urvon perked up. Cheating was second nature to the hideous disciple.

"Aye, cheat. I must step in when the fight turns poorly, and then, and only then, shalt the Dark win once and for all."


	4. The Final Battle

_**The conclusion to the tale of Torak's Triumph . . . Finally, it's here!**_

_**Belgarath**_

I was sitting underneath the ancient, sentient tree in the Vale when my friend upstairs returned.

"Listen, and listen well. I'm only allowed to tell you this once, so you might want to take notes."

"Can we cut the sarcasm and get on with it?"

"Just listen to me. The next EVENT is with the next eclipse. Torak, his son, and their disciples are going to be gathering on the coast of Mallorea to oversee the invasion force. You, Geral, Polgara, and Beldin have to be there to meet and fight them, or else the West will fall and the world will belong to Torak for all time."

"Peachy, but who are the Children of Light and Dark, aren't they Geral and Zarokal?"

"Can't tell you."

"By the Gods, why not?"

"Why? Because Torak will then know as well, and if that happens then the last hope you have will die."

"Then what can you tell us?"

"Geral has to be there, along with your daughter and brother."

"That doesn't seem very even."

"Don't worry, it soon will be."

"And what is that supposed to mean?"

"Trust me."

I wanted to scream then and there . . . so I did. I **HATE** it when people say that to me! And I think _he_ knew that.

With this information, I walked to my tower and called everyone there. One by one, they arrived, the twins, Beldin, Polgara, Geral, even the spirit of Aldur graced our meeting.

I filled them in on the current situation, and then, crossing my arms, asked for ideas, since I didn't have any.

Aldur stroked his beard. "Thou hast best do as instructed, lest thou allow the Dark to gain an advantage."

"I figured as much," I admitted, "but to hear it from you, master, is reassuring."

"So we just fly over to Mallorea, face two gods and their disciples, not to mention their armies, and just hope for the best?" Beldin asked.

"That would seem . . ."

". . . To sum it up."

"Shut up, you two," the dwarf growled.

The twins grinned boyishly.

Aldur shook his head. "Thou must learn to have more faith."

"In what, Fate?" Beldin demanded. "With all due respect, master, you of all people should know about my belief, or lack thereof, in things like Destiny. It is for fools who are willing to let others write their life for them."

"Calm yourself, Beldin." Aldur said soothingly. "What I meant was to have more faith in yourselves, that thou hast the power to write thine own destinies, the choices lie in thine hands." He leaned in close, "Personally, I don't put much stock in Destiny either."

I rubbed my hands together. "Then we are agreed? We all know what we must do?" The heads of those present nodded in response. "Then let us prepare for this EVENT."

We spent the next two days preparing our minds for the coming EVENT. Beldin and I drank heavily. The twins left to prepare the peoples of the west for the worst. Polgara and Geral spent the time fasting and in silent communion with each other, neither speaking a word for hours at a time.

Finally, it was time.

The four of us morphed into eagles and hawks and flew east. We saw the Murgos, Thulls, and Nadraks preparing for Torak's return to the west; sacrifices were being offered, armies prepped, and fear could be smelt on the hot summer air.

_**Polgara**_

As we reached the coast, my father ordered a rest period before me attempted to cross the sea dividing the world. We were close, and as I gazed out across the sea, I could almost feel Torak's gaze in this direction, could almost feel his hands on me again. Shuddering from the memories, I remained in the form of an owl, more comfortable in this form than that of my human form.

Geral, bless him, noticed that I had not changed form, and he came over and sat beside the tree I rested on.

"I don't know if this is going to help you, Aunt Pol," he started, unsure of his words, "but if you'd like, I'll talk to you . . . I mean, if it'll make you feel better." He looked up at me, and I nodded my head, softly hooing.

"Alright," and so he began to simply talk to me, telling me about his dreams and fears, more than he ever did before. He talked about how he always wished he could be king, so that he could make a difference in the world. As a king, he could help people, protect them from the Angaraks and Torak and from evil Men. He talked about how he would write fair laws that would make the commoners better off and that would protect them from being cheated and abused.

His naivety reminded me of Riva and my sister, Beldaran, dear, dear sister Beldaran. I started to drift down memory lane when Geral said something that shocked me.

"I don't hate him, you know."

My eyes widened and I turned back to look at Geral. "Torak, I mean. I don't hate him. I mean, I don't like that me was ultimately responsible for my family's deaths, but I don't hate him for it." He turned his face to the darkening sky, his blue eyes gleaming in the light of the stars that gradually came into view. "I actually feel sorry for him. I think, well, I think that he does what he does because he is feared and not loved, because he is afraid of losing what he has. He lost so much, he lost a family, he nearly lost his people, he lost the Orb, and he lost you. I think he is now very afraid of losing his place in this universe, of dying, of fading from this world, much like the stars do as the sun rises.

"So I empathize with him, because I too have lost so much, and I am afraid for my life, and so . . . I don't hate him."

He turned to look at me, and started, because I was now in human form and sitting next to him. My eyes were full of tears, and with a low cry I embraced him. He froze, confused by my reaction.

"That is so mature of you, Geral." I told him through my tears, "I am so proud of you."

Men, you should've taken notes. When someone hurts you, try to see it from their perspective first before bashing their faces in.

_**Belgarath**_

Though my back was to them, I was only pretending to sleep, and so I heard every word. I was rather proud of Geral too, but I was a little worried Geral wouldn't fight Torak now. As I lay there, I hoped that that little speech of his didn't get to his good sense. He needed to be able to fight tomorrow if we were to have a chance at winning.

Finally I slept, but my dreams were filled with fire and darkness.

When we woke, we changed back into sea hawks and flew across the ocean. For hours we saw nothing, till finally we reached the Mallorean coastline. And there was the iron fleet of Torak, filling with Angaraks armed to the teeth.

Staying together, we searched the coast for any signs of Torak and his Demigod son. Finally we found them, in the same mobile tower the Dragon God hid in during the Battle of Vo Mimbre.

Being the great, foolhardy, courageous man that I was, I decided to land right in front of the iron tower and morph into my true form. The Angaraks backed away immediately, for their mothers all raised them to fear me, and rightfully so. The others landed behind me and changed into their proper forms as well, Geral wielding the sword of his ancestors, I with a staff, but Polgara and Beldin brought nothing.

I looked up at the imposing structure, and I howled my challenge to the maimed God. "Torak, thou hast much to answer for! Come forth, and let our almighty quarrel end here and now!"

At first nothing happened, but then the great doors opened and two Gods left the tower, Torak, still in his armor, and Zarokal, wearing armor similar to his father's and wielding a black sword. Torak carried the glowing box that contained the Orb of my master, and I eyed it nervously, for it glowed red. I wondered if the confident smirk on Torak's face was caused by the fact that maybe he had mastered the Orb.

Torak's disciples filed out behind their Gods, and they stood behind Torak, all wearing the same blank expression. Except Urvon, who cowered at the sight of Beldin, who in turn cast an illusion of a white hot hook to appear in his hand. Urvon whimpered.

Torak shoved forward his son, so that he stumbled forward. He stood tall, as tall as Torak, and he spoke. "As the Child of Dark, I challenge thee Geral, Child of Light, to a fight to the death. The winner will receive the Orb of Aldur and mastery of this world."

"I don't want the world, Zarokal," Geral said emotionlessly, "I want my birthright." And with that, he charged Zarokal.

_**Torak . . .**_

_**An hour later . . .**_

I became nervous as the duel lengthened. Neither opponent had landed a blow on the other, nor did I sense the presence of the Child of Light. I searched with my powers to both combatants, and I felt a strange yet familiar presence in the confines of my son's mind.

POLGARA!

I looked hard at my bride, and I saw her staring intently at our child. I knew she must be guiding his actions in some way. I knew not what to think of that.

_**Belgarath**_

I really began to worry, as the eclipse drew nearer, any minute the moon would move in front of the sun, and I still didn't know who the Child of Light was. I forced myself not to bite my nails as I watched the two warriors hack at each other's swords and shields, but neither making a dent.

I found myself observing the son of Polgara. I had not seen him before this point, and so I looked for a resemblance between the mother and child. I saw the skin color, the hair, and the ears, but the rest was Angarak.

A shadow began to cover the coast as the moon moved in front of the sun, and the Children of Light and Dark would have to make their choices.

_**Zarokal**_

It wasn't like fighting my father as I tried my best to slay my foe. Geral was fast and sure, while my father used his strength and bulk to hammer his foes into the earth. My mother guided my actions, not to harm Geral, but to deflect his attacks. I tried to conserve my energy, as it was fading.

As the sun was eclipsed, I felt something enter my mind, but it was not my mother.

"_Hello, Child of Light_."

"_Who are you?_"

"_A friend. Now, I need you to attack your father_."

"_WHAT? How? I can't fight him!_"

"_Now, when did I say you had to fight him? I just need you to destroy that box and hold Torak off till Geral can get the Orb. That is, if you don't want your father to win_."

I thought about it, did I want my father to win? I hated him. If anything, I wanted to see him lose.

I spun around and, with a horizontal strike, blasted the box that contained the Orb that my father loved more than he did my mother and me. The stone flew through the air, caught in the blade's path, towards Geral. He saw it, and running for it, caught it with one hand.

Torak stood in shock, unable to comprehend what had just happened. Finally, he looked at Geral with the Orb and screamed, "ATTACK! ATTACK, MY PEOPLE! KILL THEM ALL!"

I faced my father, and I smiled coldly. "Now you lose, oh Maimed God of Angarak."

"NEVER! I AM TORAK, KING OF KINGS AND LORD OF LORDS! I CAN NOT BE DEFEATED!" and with that he charged me.

_**Geral**_

As I finally held the jewel that was the cause of all this from the beginning, I felt the stone's jubilation as its consciousness joined with mine, filling my mind with its song.

But then Belgarath shouted something at me, and as I looked up I saw a Murgo chop at my head with an axe. I instinctively held up the Orb to stop the attack, and the Murgo vanished in a flash of fire.

Suddenly, the Prophecy entered my mind, it was nice enough to introduce itself to me, and it told me to join the Orb with my sword. I did so, and the blade caught fire, a blue flame that made the charging Angaraks pause. I looked at the evil race, and I smiled.

"Who's first?"

_**Torak**_

I dueled mine perfidious child with a wrath that mere mortal Men could not comprehend. I hacked without regard to defense at Zarokal, wanting to cause Zarokal as much as I possibly could. But I felt myself limited, as if something was evening out the odds. I realized that I could only fight as hard as Zarokal could.

Then it dawned on me. I was again the Child of Dark, and mine son was the Child of Light! Indeed, his eyes turned blue before mine own red ones. As his eyes changed, I saw my beloved Polgara in his face, and I stopped in my attack, lowering mine blade.

_**Zarokal**_

As my father lowered his weapon, I snarled like an animal and I plunged my sword into his face. He made not a sound, only tears fell from his mask's eye holes. He stumbled back, sliding from my sword, and he fell to the earth with a thunderous **CLASH**, his armor rattling.

The Angaraks and the disciples all saw this and a great cry rose to the heavens. Zedar, a frantic look in his eyes, took the form of a vulture, flew for his master, picked up his body, and flew eastward, followed closely by Ctuchik and Urvon, who were both ravens. The Angaraks fled in all directions, some even into the sea, chased by Belgarath, Geral, Beldin, and my mother. Soon, the beach was barren save for us five.

The disciples of Aldur came to me, and I drove my blade into the earth. I faced them, crossing my arms. "It is finished," the voice inside of me said through my lips.

_**Belgarath**_

_**Back in the Vale . . .**_

I studied Zarokal and Polgara as the two embraced each other fiercely. I still couldn't understand how an Angarak Demigod could have been the Child of Light, but stranger things have happened, so I learned to accept it.

Beldin had followed Zedar and saw that the Apostate had flown Torak's miserable carcass to Cthol Mishrak, and there the three disciples of the Dragon God placed the comatose God in a tomb, and there they were willing to wait for their God to return to them. I say to them, don't hold your breath.

The Orb and Geral had reunited the Rivans and the peoples of the west now recognized the Heir of Riva as the Overlord of the West and Godslayer. I know, Torak wasn't dead, and it was Zarokal that struck him down, but we wanted the Alorns to accept something they could handle. Geral united the peoples of the west against the Angaraks and he led them into an era of peace and prosperity. He ruled from Sendaria, reclaiming Pol's old throne as the Duke of Erat.

Zarokal, however, would fade into history, even though he was going to live forever, like us. Beldin and the twins were willing to let him stay with us, but the Demigod wanted to find his own way, and so he was going to leave and wander the world in search of a place of his own. Pol was heartbroken, of course, but every child has to leave sometime.

Zarokal said his last goodbyes and left the tower with only a sword and a pack of a few belongings. He didn't need much, as he was half a God.

As he faded into the distance, I had a feeling we would cross paths again.

**_Alright, its finally finished! Tell me what you think! Also, if I get over ten votes wanting Zarokal to return, then that's an option I'm open to._**


End file.
